Love at First Laugh: Eight Romantic Novellas Filled with Love, Laughter, and Happily Ever After

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Love at First Laugh: Eight Romantic Novellas Filled with Love, Laughter, and Happily Ever After Page 19

by Krista Phillips


  “I guess it’s your good luck you were doing sound today, because that video sounds like it’s one worth replaying a time or two.”

  Maverick rolled his eyes.

  Their waitress arrived and gave him a pointed look. He obliged with his order. “Double bacon cheeseburger, extra bacon on the side, please.”

  The waitress turned her attention to Lia, who worked to keep her voice even as she ordered. Nothing was wrong with her order, but compared to Maverick’s… “Garden salad, dressing on the side.”

  As soon as the waitress left, Maverick balled up a napkin and threw it at her. “Come on. You’re still upset about that?”

  Two weeks ago, she’d met one of her online matches for a first date. Upon seeing her, he’d looked her up and down then smirked. “Your profile didn’t say plus-size.” That one still smarted. She’d already been struggling with her body image as bad date after bad date had piled up, but that one… She didn’t like remembering that date.

  Lia did her best to force a casual shrug, not that anything ever really looked casual when forced. “Doesn’t hurt to be healthy.”

  “You’re one of the healthiest people I know. Your job is physically active, you work hard, and you take the stairs when most of us slobs are happy to ride in the elevator.”

  “I can afford to lose a few pounds.”

  “Whatever.” The word came out on a breath as Maverick reached for another napkin. “But don’t blame me if some of my bacon accidentally falls into your dressingless salad.”

  “I got my dressing on the side.”

  “Which is girl talk for ‘I look fat so I’m not eating the dressing but I-don’t want anyone to know I’m self-conscious about my weight.’”

  He had her pegged. There wasn’t much she could say to that. Which made it a perfect time to change the subject. “How’d your date go? Or did you have two this week?”

  Maverick fell against the seatback and gripped the edge of the table as though holding on for dear life. “Two. Don’t ever let me do that again.”

  “What was wrong this time? I’m beginning to wonder if you’re too picky.” Talk about the pot and the kettle…

  “No way. Friday night’s date was supposed to be five-foot-seven with red hair and green eyes.”

  “And?”

  “Five-foot-two with black hair and glasses so thick I couldn’t tell her eye color.”

  “Being short doesn’t automatically make her a bad person.”

  “No, no. I can forgive short and even accept it was an accident and not outright dishonesty that painted her about five inches taller. Then I asked about her work in avionics. Turns out she works at a hobby shop.”

  “A hobby shop?”

  “Yeah. She sells model airplanes. Which translated to a career in avionics on her dating profile and falls about three steps beyond where I draw the honesty line.”

  “Ouch. What about Saturday’s date?”

  He tugged at the edges of his shaggy hair. “She was nice, she really was.”

  “But?”

  “She’s deathly allergic to shellfish.”

  “What happened? You didn’t order for her, did you?”

  He held up his hands. “No, no. I learned my lesson after the last time. She ordered her own meal. Her glasses — apparently also quite thick — were at home because she wanted to impress her date. I could have told her the ravioli she was ordering had crab in it, but she didn’t ask.”

  “Oh no. Is she okay?”

  “An epi pen and a trip to the ER later, yes, she’s recovering, but they admitted her to the hospital overnight for observation.”

  “I think we need to try a new dating site.”

  “I’m about ready to give up on this whole online dating thing altogether. It’s turned out to be more adventure than is strictly good for my sanity. We’ve both given it a fair shake, but it’s just not working. I say we call it quits.”

  “A friend from work recommended one. It’s a Christian site. Maybe you won’t run into the same trouble, you know, with people lying about their height and careers and stuff.”

  He shook his head while saying it, but he still asked, “What’s the name?”

  “Holy Hearts Matchmaking.” She winced. “It sounds hokey, but my friend says they’re the best.”

  “You gonna give them a try?”

  Lia rolled a shoulder. “What do I have to lose? Last night’s date picked up his dinner fork — the one he’d eaten with — and used it to more or less clean the wax out of his ear.”

  Maverick choked on his water.

  “Then when I said I didn’t think we were a match, he stuck me with the entire bill.”

  “I don’t know, Lia. Maybe this online dating stuff isn’t for us. Do you think we’re being impatient with God’s plan? Surely He has someone picked out for both of us, don’t you think? Isn’t it like testing him or something if we keep pursuing this?”

  She leaned back and crossed her arms as the waitress set the dry garden salad in front of her. “The way I see it, we’re meeting new people, and that can’t be all bad. If one of these people happens to be the person God has for either of us, then all the better. That doesn’t mean I’m giving up on looking for someone in the real world, too. But let’s face it. This close to DC? Everybody’s rushing around. Nobody takes time to get to know each other. It makes meeting people the old-fashioned way almost impossible. ”

  He sighed. “I’m not sure if it’s where we live or a symptom of the era, but I hear you. So what do you think will be different about this Holy Heart place?”

  “Holy Hearts. And for starters, there’s an extensive statement-of-faith type questionnaire so you can get matched up with someone who believes the same things as you. You know, the big stuff like salvation, but also the little stuff like whether or not women should wear pants to church.” She picked up her fork and started waving it around as she talked. “On top of that, you’re required to provide evidence that you’re a member in good standing of your church.”

  Maverick tucked a napkin into his lap. “Like a letter from the pastor? I’m not sure I want to go there.”

  “Me either. They’ll take a photocopy of your giving record. You don’t have to show the amounts or anything – just the top with the church’s name, your name and address, and something that identifies it as having been sent within the last six months. Or a copy of a church directory, but it has to include a picture or address and be dated within a year.

  “You think this’ll make for better dating experiences?”

  Lia put her fork back down. “I hope so. I’m starting to lose faith in the whole system. Now hurry up and say the blessing.”

  Maverick bowed his head, and Lia followed suit. Silence fell over the table and lasted long enough for Lia to give his shin a light kick. “Today, please.”

  “Lord, we ask You to watch over Mr. and Mrs. Peabody and the girl from last night with the shellfish allergy. Show us what to do with this whole dating thing. We’re both old enough to start thinking about settling down with that permanent someone you have for us, but finding that person is proving more difficult than either of us expected. Amen.”

  Lia echoed her own, “Amen,” before opening her eyes. “Hey…”

  Maverick winked at her. “I told you. Bacon. Now eat up. It wouldn’t kill you to put some salad dressing on it, either.”

  Chapter 2

  What was he going to do with Lia?

  Maverick was scratching the surface of thirty and hadn’t dated anyone seriously since college. He wasn’t itching to settle down, though, so what was the big deal? The online dating had started out as a lark. Neither he nor Lia cared enough to take it to heart. Or so he’d thought.

  Thinking always did get him into trouble, though. Which was why responsibility for the entire dating fiasco belonged to him. When the umpteenth couple in their singles’ group paired off, Lia had suggested online dating. Maverick, fool extraordinaire, had opened his big mouth and dar
ed her.

  Did he dare her to try online dating, though? No. Easy dares belonged on the playground, and they were both too old for that. So he’d gone all in, said they should give it a shot, then dared her to see who could land the worse date.

  What kind of a numbskull created a contest where, to win, he must become a bona fide loser? Only someone who didn’t plan to take it seriously. So here they were… both with crummy dating records. But at least they got together for lunch on Sundays. Rehashing the gory details of his dates with Lia had turned out to be fun.

  The whole not-taking-it-seriously thing had worked fine, too. Up until Sven. Sven was pure scum as far as Maverick was concerned. He’d taken her skiing… before hooking up with some other woman on the slopes. Lia ended up stranded, and since her family didn’t know about the online dating, Maverick had been the lucky one to get the call.

  He would have gladly left the world of online dating behind at that point. Larks were only meant to last so long, and they weren’t supposed to be quite so painful. After arriving at the lodge bearing witness to the stricken look on her face, though, how could he back out? Her stubborn streak wouldn’t let her quit, and his stubborn streak wouldn’t let her go through it alone. And so he found himself stuck on the online dating merry-go-round with no exit in sight.

  Maybe the Christian service would offer a healthier pool of people to choose from. Hopefully. He didn’t want to see Lia tearstained and disappointed again.

  Maverick pulled into his driveway and cut the engine before tugging his phone from its holster and punching out a text.

  Alright, you win. I’ll check out Holy Heart, but I’d better not be alone in this.

  His phone buzzed seconds later, and the infamous one-eyed picture filled the screen. He’d been trying to take Lia’s picture for his contacts list, but the wind had kicked up at just the right time. Whenever she called now, one hazel eye peeked out from behind a veil of red hair. Hearts. Holy Hearts. As in it-takes-2. Want help setting up your profile?

  I’m a big boy. I think I can swing it on my own this time.

  We’ll see about that… I’ll set mine up, too. Who knows — maybe we can talk about something pleasant next Sunday!

  He let himself in the front door, booted up his laptop, and sat down on the couch. “Alright, Holy Hearts. Don’t fail me now. Or, at least don’t fail me as much as the last place.”

  Gender: Male

  Age: 25-35

  State: Virginia

  Marital Status: Never Been Married

  Do you smoke? No

  Height? 5’10”

  Level of Education: Bachelor’s Degree

  How often do you attend church? Every week

  Do you want children? Haven’t thought about it

  Are you willing to date someone who already has children? Haven’t thought about it

  Do you like to try new things? Sometimes

  Are you an optimist or a pessimist? Optimist

  I don’t mind hard work. Agree

  On a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being unimportant and 10 being very important, rate the importance of the following items in your own life.

  Having a strong work ethic: 10

  Honesty: 10

  Willingness to try new things: 8

  Respecting authority: 9

  Following the rules: 9

  Sanctity of marriage: 10

  Empathy: 7

  Emotional intimacy: 7

  A tidy home: 7

  Getting to work on time: 10

  Politics: 7

  The list of questions went on for pages. Ninety minutes later, Maverick’s finger hovered over his laptop’s track pad as he decided how he should answer the final question.

  Interested in: Marriage, Dating with an Eye on Marriage, Dating but Definitely Not Marriage, Friendship, Online Relationship Only, Not Sure

  Did he want the same thing now as the last time he filled one of these out? It wouldn’t be fair — to him or the women involved — if he wasn’t honest on this question.

  A minute, a quick prayer, and a shake of the head later, Maverick clicked a couple more buttons and closed his laptop.

  This had better be worth it.

  Chapter 3

  Lia clicked the submit button and watched as her profile went live on the Holy Hearts site. Surely her luck would improve. Even though she’d said she was only interested in dating Christian men at the last one, she’d ended up with all sorts of people contacting her.

  This one would be better. It had to be. But if not, at least she could share her misery with Maverick. He was good at commiserating.

  She shut her computer down and got ready for bed. Morning would come early enough, and she needed to be at work by 5:30.

  Lia peeked out from the locker room. The ER was bustling, which meant she would be on her feet all day.

  She tucked her phone into her pocket, tightened her pony tail, and made her way out into the fray.

  “Promise, stitches in 8A!”

  Lia nodded to Dr. Zagel and spun toward cubicle 8A. A quick scan of the chart told her who she would be treating. “Hello Mrs. Baxter. I understand you cut yourself on some broken glass.”

  The young mother held a toddler in her lap and had one arm wrapped around a baby while her other arm, swathed haphazardly in a kitchen towel, hung at her side. “I dropped a glass. I was doing dishes, and my hands were soapy. I was fine until someone screamed, then I turned away from the sink, and the glass slipped and hit the floor. Brodie started crawling toward it, and I went to block him, and…here I am.”

  Lia smiled. “Not to worry. We’ll fix you up right as rain. Is there anyone to help with the kids while I do the suturing?”

  She shook her head. “My husband’s at work, and he’ll get in trouble if he leaves. I don’t have any family in the area.”

  “Alright, let me see if I can find someone to pop in and give us a hand. I’ll be back.”

  Lia stepped back out into the corridor and pulled out her phone. She texted Blossom, one of the volunteer chaplains. Have a mom with two babies and she needs stitches. Can you come hold a baby or two so I can do my job?

  Be there in 15.

  Lia poked her head back around the curtain. “A chaplain is coming down to help with the kids while I get you stitched up. She’ll be here in a few minutes. Will you be okay on your own till then?”

  Mrs. Baxter peered from one kid to the other before nodding mutely.

  Lia couldn’t imagine the stress. Sole responsibility for two little lives, and something goes wrong. If she ever got married and had kids, she wanted to be near family. Life was easier when you had a support system.

  “Promise!”

  Lia looked up when her name was yelled.

  “Done with the stitches?”

  She shook her head. “Baby and toddler with her. Waiting on a chaplain. I can spare fifteen minutes if you need me.”

  Dr. Zagel pointed at cubicle 7D. “High on something, two broken bones, but we can’t get him to stay still long enough for us to set them. Can you help restrain?”

  She nodded. “Sure. Who’s doing the setting?”

  “Me. I’m right behind you.”

  Lia squeezed into the small space as two other nurses attempted to keep the patient still. Today was on course to be anything but boring.

  Dr. Zagel pushed through the curtain. “I’m going to do the right femur first. X-ray shows a clean break, should be a simple set, but we can’t give him anything for the pain because we don’t know what he’s on.”

  “He’s not feeling any pain.” One of the nurses waggled her eyebrows. “Let’s do this before the drugs wear off.”

  Dr. Zagel stepped up to the bed, directed Lia to hold the patient’s left thigh, then pulled hard on the right leg.

  “Aaaaaaaagggggggg!”

  Unfortunately, the drugs were wearing off.

  “Left arm next.” Dr. Zagel slipped around the side of the bed and grabbed the arm in question. He ordered one of the
other nurses to put her weight on the patient’s shoulder. Then he pulled without breaking a sweat.

  The patient screamed again, but the doctor just nodded to the nurses. “Promise, go check on the mom with stitches. Peters and Jacobs, do his cast. Come find me when you get the first few layers on so I can take a look.”

  The three nurses all spoke in chorus. “Yes Doctor.” Then they shared a grin. Sometimes the doctors needed to think they were the ones in charge.

  Lia was about to step into Mrs. Baxter’s room when Blossom called her name. “Lia, there you are. Tell me where you need me.”

  Lia tipped her head toward the curtain before sliding it open. “Alrighty, Mrs. Baxter. This is Blossom. She’s going to give us a hand with your kids so I can get you stitched up.” Lia picked the toddler up out of his mom’s lap and plopped him onto the chaplain’s lap. Then she handed the baby over as well. Blossom settled the baby against her shoulder and reached into a bag at her feet to bring out a board book for the toddler.

  No doubt the bag was loaded with child-friendly entertainment. Blossom didn’t work with kids, but she knew enough to pop into the Child Life offices and grab one of their go-bags before coming down to the ER.

  Lia carefully peeled the blood-soaked towel away from Mrs. Baxter’s left hand. “How did you get to the hospital? With your husband at work and no family in the area…?”

  The woman paled as Lia revealed the bloody gash. “Drove.”

  Alarm slammed through Lia’s chest. “It must have been a challenge to lift the kids into their car seats.”

  Mrs. Baxter’s eyes widened. “I promise… they were in their seats. I can’t afford an ambulance. It was drive myself or wait for my husband to get home tonight. I knew I needed a doctor. It’s a bad cut, so I did what I had to do.”

  Lia rested her hand on Mrs. Baxter’s arm. “You were smart to come in for stitches. Sometimes I forget how much fortitude moms have when dealing with difficult circumstances.”

  She reached for the alcohol. “I’m going to clean the wound, and it’s going to hurt like the dickens. Do you want anything for the pain before I start?”

 

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